


What's Happening?

by NoirxAnge



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, Attack, M/M, Nice Attack, Paris - Freeform, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirxAnge/pseuds/NoirxAnge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My tribute to the recent Nice attack, and any other attacks there were. Because grief is terrifying, and it spreads. My heart goes out to anyone who has suffered because of this. I wish the world were a better place. </p><p>All they wanted was to spend a romantic, picture-perfect honeymoon together. So why did this happen to them? </p><p>All Harry wanted was to always see Draco's smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Happening?

 

Harry Potter just stood there in shock, unable to move, his heart rate increasing, his body a statue among all the galloping gazelles of people running away from the scene in screams. All he could think of while gun shots were firing and tires screeched against the cement road was; where was Draco? What was happening?

(They had been in Nice for their honeymoon, and had came to this specific spot because they had heard that there was a celebration going on, so they had wanted to join in the festivities. They had been about to kiss when they had heard the loud shots. Everyone had thought they were just fireworks, until the screaming had started. They didn't know this was what would happen when they had came out to enjoy the wonderful night. What had gone wrong?)

He stood still, breath caught in his chest as his eyes swept through the crowds, the bodies, the blood, the ruins, for that someone, for _him_ to appear to him afraid but unscathed.

Every time he glimpsed a head of blond hair, his heart would jump to his throat, but fall back to the bottom of his stomach when he realised it wasn't Draco's.

He couldn't move, not even when others tried to grab him along to flee. He couldn't abandon Draco, who could very well be stuck among the heavy corpses, trying to find Harry too. He couldn't leave without knowing Draco was safe.

When he heard more screams rising in pitch and volume, he finally snapped and scrambled, looking for Draco, trying to recognize his face amongst the pale ghosts wild. It was like eons passed while the faces fleeted past him, as though his bones had aged so much that he couldn't move _quick enough_ to fish out Draco.

_Draco Draco Draco_

His legs were too heavy, they weighed like lead, and his body just didn't move fast enough for him. _Move move move please_ wasn't he always complimented for his speed, wasn't his sheer stamina and fast legs why he had been allowed into the school's national track-and-field team even though he had only been a freshman and only juniors onwards could start applying? _Work for me_ , his only thought raging through his brain. _Wait for me, Draco._

"H...ry"

His heart stopped, and started beating quick, almost back to its normal pace.

He turned in pure joy, smile inching onto his face.

His heart froze. His very soul broke into pieces.

His smile had only climbed up to his face halfway, and fell back to a horrified shape, his faucets of eyes immediately turned and despair rushed out unforgivingly.

A trembling pale hand, smudged with the taint of dirt of blood of pain of r u i n s o f d e a —, rose shaking from amidst the bodies lying on the ground scarred with tire tracks, aimed at Harry. He moved like he never did before, slipping, stumbling, almost tripping a few times, his despair blurring his vision.

He was so near, if he reached out slightly more than his arm length and maybe a few steps, he could graze his fingers. But the next word that made him want to cry out.

"H...ry, run,"

That usually smirking mouth, usually so confident and strong, usually with a tongue of silver, usually so quick with wit and sarcasm, delivered a voice that was shaky, weak. But as usual, the owner of the unfamiliar voice only cared about Harry, giving no though to himself even though Harry couldn't see Draco's body below his chest.

How could Draco only care about Harry running away _when his own lower body was entirely crushed and there was too much blood?_

Harry didn't care; he ran to Draco and gently held that one hand, his other hand cradling the soft cheeks, caked with the dirt. Tears ran down both their cheeks, but Harry couldn't tell whose ended and whose began when he put their foreheads together. He could hear his own voice and the fumbled, fake, frantic assurances that help would come, the sobbing, and Draco's soothing voice of love pain. He could hear the raspiness of his lover's voice, and the growing feebleness, the light in his glowing silver eyes dimming, and his heart ached.

_Why wasn't anyone coming? Please someone, please please I'll do **anything** so just save him **please**_

Some parts of his desperate thoughts were vocalized apparently, as Draco's eyes became wetter, and his one good hand tightened its grip on Harry's.

It slowly loosened, and finally, his pale pale fragile hand fell to the cement floor.

  
Harry's world ended.

Why wasn't the world stopping?

His own life was ending;  
The love of his life, his very world,

Everything was ending.

Harry's life ended.

Nothing mattered anymore, not the continuing screams and gun shots, not the people running for safety.

His whole world, before centered around Draco, had ended with his last breath.

His soul, shattered, becoming dust.

Harry tried desperately to breathe, to not let the white hand go.

_Ah, this pain must be my heartache._

Harry looked down to his chest, blooming with scarlet flowers of death, a small hole the center of the blossom.

 _Ah_ , he thought as his vision darkened, Draco's lifeless and limp body the last thing he saw, along with the still tight hold on his hand.

_For one last time, I wanted to see your smile again._

 

That night, too many people died. Too many people grieved. Too many people were traumatised. That night, was only one of the tragedies the world has and would see.


End file.
